Religion Blog

Enlarge ImageRequest to buy this photoJae C. Hong | ASSOCIATED PRESSAtheists and the atheist-curious respond to secular music during the first Sunday Assembly in Los Angeles. Yesterday’s gathering of more than 400 follows others held elsewhere in the U.S. this year.

LOS ANGELES — It looked like a typical Sunday morning in any mega-church. Hundreds packed in for more than an hour of rousing music, an inspirational sermon, a reading and quiet reflection. The only thing missing was God.

Dozens of gatherings dubbed “atheist mega-churches” by supporters and detractors are springing up around the United States after finding success in Great Britain this year. The movement, fueled by social media and spearheaded by two prominent British comedians, is no joke.

Yesterday, the inaugural Sunday Assembly in Los Angeles attracted more than 400 people, all bound by their belief in nonbelief. Similar gatherings in San Diego, Nashville, New York and other U.S. cities have drawn hundreds of atheists seeking the camaraderie of a congregation without religion or ritual.

The founders, Sanderson Jones and Pippa Evans of Great Britain, are on a tongue-in-cheek “40 Dates, 40 Nights” tour around the United States and Australia to drum up donations and help launch dozens of Sunday Assemblies. They hope to raise more than $800,000 that will help atheists launch their pop-up congregations around the world.

They don’t bash believers but want to find a new way to meet like-minded people, engage in the community and make their presence more visible in a landscape dominated by faith.

Jones got the idea while leaving a Christmas-carol concert six years ago.

“There was so much about it that I loved, but it’s a shame because at the heart of it, it’s something I don’t believe in,” Jones said. “If you think about church, there’s very little that’s bad. It’s singing awesome songs, hearing interesting talks, thinking about improving yourself and helping other people — and doing that in a community with wonderful relationships. What part of that is not to like?”

The movement dovetails with new studies showing that an increasing number of Americans are drifting from any religious affiliation.

The Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life released a study last year that found 20 percent of Americans say they have no religious affiliation, an increase from 15 percent in the past five years. Pew researchers stressed, however, that the category also encompassed majorities of people who said they believed in God but had no ties with organized religion, and people who consider themselves “spiritual” but not “religious.”

Sunday Assembly — whose motto is “Live Better, Help Often, Wonder More” — taps into that universe of people who left their faith but miss the community that church provided, said Phil Zuckerman, a professor of secular studies at Pitzer College in Claremont, Calif.

It also plays into a feeling among some atheists that they should make themselves more visible. For example, in December, an atheist in Santa Monica created an uproar — and triggered a lawsuit — when he set up a godless display amid Christian Nativity scenes that were part of a beloved, decades-old tradition.

“In the U.S., there’s a little bit of a feeling that if you’re not religious, you’re not patriotic,” Zuckerman said. “I think a lot of secular people say, ‘Hey, wait a minute. We are charitable, we are good people, we’re good parents, and we are just as good citizens as you, and we’re going to start a church to prove it. It’s still a minority, but there’s enough of them now.”

That impulse, however, has raised the ire of those who have spent years pushing back against the idea that atheism itself is a religion.

“The idea that you’re building an entire organization based on what you don’t believe, to me, sounds like an offense against sensibility,” said Michael Luciano, a self-described atheist who was raised Roman Catholic but left the church when he became disillusioned.

“There’s something not OK with appropriating all of this religious language, imagery and ritual for atheism.”

That sentiment didn’t seem to detract from the excitement at the inaugural meeting yesterday in Los Angeles. Hundreds of atheists and atheist-curious packed into a Hollywood auditorium for a boisterous service of live music, reflection and an “inspirational talk” — plus stand-up comedy by Jones, the movement’s co-founder.

During the service, people stamped their feet, clapped and cheered as Jones and Evans led the group through rousing renditions of Lean on Me, Here Comes the Sun and other hits that took the place of gospel songs. Congregants applauded as members of the audience spoke about community service projects they had started in LA.

At the end, volunteers passed cardboard boxes for donations as those in attendance mingled over coffee and pastries and children played on the floor.

For atheist Elijah Senn, the morning was perfect.

“I think the image that we have put forward in a lot of ways has been a scary, mean, we-want-to-tear-down-the-walls, we-want-to-do-destructive-things kind of image,” he said. “I’m really excited to be able to come together and show that it’s not about destruction. It’s about making things and making things better.”